


Distracted

by Writes_by_Night



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beating, Bestiality, Blood As Lube, Come Inflation, Cunnilingus, Daemon Touching, Dubious Consent, Genital Torture, Knotting, Licking, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Non Consensual Daemon Touching, Non-Consensual Spanking, Omega Lee Scoresby, Other, Painful Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Pierre McConville/Lee Scoresby, Piss, Pussy Spanking, Rape, Torture, Whipping, cumflation, daemon torture, once upon a time in the north - Freeform, spoilers for Once Upon a time in the north
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 07:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25346773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writes_by_Night/pseuds/Writes_by_Night
Summary: Lee is utterly distracted when a dying man grabs his daemon.  Pierre McConville takes full advantage, and soon has Lee completely at his mercy.  Which he does not have.And Lee is an omega.  Just because.Then Iorek makes it better.  Also just because.
Relationships: Iorek Byrnison/Lee Scoresby, Lee Scoresby & Hester
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So...this story is straight up rape and torture for the first chapter (which ended up quite long). Then straight up pleasure in the second (which is not actually written yet). Technically both chapters contain rape, because Iorek does not exactly ask for permission. Because this is fiction, Lee is fine afterwards with being forced to orgasm after orgasm, making the second half more dubcon than noncon, but were it real life it would be straight up noncon due to lack of consent, pleasure or no pleasure. And the first chapter is straight up rape, no pleasure for Lee or Hester at all. So if that's a bit heavy for you, you might want to wait on the second chapter to balance it (or skip straight to the second chapter if dubcon/pleasure is more your thing and that chapter has been posted).
> 
> Also...there's a bit involving a rattlesnake, the rattlesnake's rattle, and a female hare being violated. I...don't know how to warn for that beyond straight up saying it happens. Oh...and there are corpses involved in this. It wasn't meant to be a necrophilia thing so much as an inevitable 'the man is dying' thing but...well...it's there too.
> 
> Final warning: includes talk about making Lee pregnant and then killing the unborn infant with Lee. And pissing on the baby. Seriously, this story goes dark.

Never in his life had Lee Scoresby experience such a sensation as he knew when the dying gunman grabbed Hester by the neck.

No one touches another person’s daemon. It was so taboo that even in the heat of battle, even when it was life or death, a person still shied away from touching their enemy’s daemon. It was so unthinkable that Lee and Hester had never thought to guard against it. Hester had eyed the man’s daemon but had not known it was necessary to keep an eye on the man’s hands until it was far too late.

It felt wrong, an indescribably wrongness, an _intimate_ wrongness, as wrong as if the man had gone to touch Lee’s private parts, as if he had reached inside him somehow to touch places no one was ever meant to touch. Even worse, he had his hands around Hester’s neck; he was _killing_ her, killing Lee too, and he could feel her struggle like his own. Lee managed to push through the wrongness, left the Winchester because the man was too close, and he lifted his gun, not to shoot (it couldn’t shoot) but to clobber the man to death. The man saw him coming and grinned, as if to say ‘you killed me, but I got you back’, but otherwise made no move to defend himself.

Lee Scoresby reared back his arm and felt something press into his shoulder and then came an explosion that left him near senseless. The hot crack of a rifle was so close, so impossibly loud, that the sound hitting his ears almost hurt more than the bullet ripping through his shoulder.

Pierre McConville had taken advantage of Lee’s distraction and this was how he chose to make his presence felt. He had not aimed to kill, not even to maim, the bullet high enough to only slice through skin and graze bone, rather than lodging inside him or finding its way through a vital organ. Not that Lee was aware of this; he had less than a second to become aware of the danger before the danger was splashing his blood across the warehouse, the boom of the gun near breaking his eardrums, and between that and Hester still being grasped in the hands of the second gunman, Lee was rendered completely incapacitated and collapsed back to the ground.

He could have died then. Hester could not breathe. And McConville was there, standing over him, his rattlesnake coiled smugly at his side. McConville did not shoot again, however. He spoke. At first, his ears still ringing from the gun going off so close, Lee could not hear anything but a loud ringing in his ears. Hester could hear though, even half dead from strangulation.

“Let go its neck,” he said, speaking to his associate.

“They killed me,” answered the gunman, not seeming inclined to do as he was asked. “I’m a gonna kill _them_ dead.”

“So we will, so we will,” McConville agreed. “But not so quick, like.”

The gunman considered that. Then, just when Hester was on the verge of passing out, he let her neck go and instead grasped her by the ears. She gasped in and out, deep gulps of air, then glanced at Lee, who was still reeling and trying to get himself together enough to fight, then at the rattlesnake, then at the man standing over them, grinning.

“Well?” demanded Hester, defiant, “You gonna finish us or not?”

“Not yet,” answered the villain, and he grabbed Lee under the arms, taking care to press his thumb into the gunshot wound, and started dragging him towards the nearest pillar at the center of the room.

Both Lee and Hester lost all composure quite quickly at that because the dying gunman still held Hester and the pillar was too far away; they could feel the stretch between them as a physical pain.

“No!” Hester cried, the more coherent of the two, and she squirmed so violently that the gunman almost had to let go, except his daemon helped him and Hester could not get away. The stretch pulled, but the pillar was not so far away as to break them, for all it hurt, and McConville grinned nastily.

He talked, all the while he got Lee how he wanted him, about how he knew them, how he always meant to kill them, how he killed those deputies through their daemons and now he was going to do the same to them. Lee rather regretted the slow return of his hearing, if those tales were to be the last thing in the world he heard.

McConville stripped away Lee’s clothes, not caring much what buttons tore off or what stitches ripped. Lee struggled, to get back to Hester, to get the better of McConville, to get away. McConville responded sadistically, first by pressing on the gunshot wound until Lee cried out, then, still with that evil smirk, kicking the downed man directly between the legs.

The bullet wound was painful. Being hit in his most sensitive area left him near senseless from agony. He curled in on himself, trying to protect himself from further pain, choking on agony too intense for him to even scream. Hester was rendered almost as senseless, sharing Lee’s pain as surely as someone had struck her as well.

“Get used to that,” McConville said, still grinning cruelly. “What I did to them deputies en’t nothing on what I’m about to do to you. I think I’ll make this more…personal. Maybe I’ll fuck you half to death…and then I’ll force my fat dick up your rabbit’s pussy and break her open. I’ll cum so deep in her you’ll both taste my cum on your lips as you breathe your last. You a beta or a pussy boy? I know you en’t no alpha.” He forced down Lee’s pants and thrust his hand down his underwear to find out for himself, grinning when he felt the fleshy lips of a pussy nestled behind a stubby cock; the usual anatomy of an omega. Then, just because he could, he grabbed the little cock, pinched the head as hard as he could and twisted.

The man holding Hester grinned, watching her go from squirming to get away, to curling inward as if to protect herself from the pain her human had received, or perhaps from McConville’s threat. That apparently gave the gunman an idea, because while McConville cruelly went about his work of stripping Lee, detailing all the horrible things he had done in the past, and all the horrible things he meant to do, the gunman used what little strength he had left to position Hester’s smaller hare body over his leg, forcing her hindlegs to part. Then he brought his hand down with all that was left of his strength directly on her tiny pussy.

It was Lee who cried out, the double violation of having another man touch his daemon and having him hurt her in a very intimate location too much for him to bear. The gunman laughed, feeling his own hot blood in his throat, and, knowing his time was limited, he set about to do as much harm as he could in what time he had left. He rained down a beating against Hester’s exposed pussy, as hard and fast as he could first hitting, then punching with his fist. The only saving grace was that he _was_ dying, and the blows were much weaker than they could have been. This did not help Hester or Lee much, because they were still quite hard enough to cause them both to feel an agony to rival the bullet wound in Lee’s shoulder.

They were also quite enough that McConville had no trouble arranging Lee as he liked. The man was soon naked from head to toe. Normally Lee’s first concern in that situation would have been the cold, because while the warehouse did offer some heating compared to outdoors, it was not nearly enough for a man to comfortably be stripped. Lee’s greater concern in that moment, however, was pain, and the way in which McConville looked at him, lusting after Lee’s agony. Then McConville set about tying Lee up using Lee’s own clothes as bindings despite there being ample supplies around he could have used that were more suited; he seemed to enjoy using the man’s belongings against him.

He tied one of Lee’s ankles to a post with his shirt, then used his pants to tie the other ankle to another post, forcing his legs apart so wide Lee wanted to start begging for mercy. He bit his lip to stop the words, and all the while that fist still punched Hester, and Lee felt it like blows to his own fully exposed cunt. McConville finished it off by binding Lee’s hands behind his back using his belt, the gun holster with his useless gun still attached (after he checked that it truly could not be fired; he seemed to enjoy knowing Lee had his gun right there but could not use it). The end result was that Lee was utterly exposed, legs spread wide and ankles slightly raised to give full access to every part of his intimate regions, nipples hardened by the cold, and arms positioned painfully so Lee was half lying on them, his bullet wound bleeding all the while down his back, following the curve of his arm to soak into his belt, finally creating a small but growing puddle beneath him.

McConville celebrated finishing tying Lee up by giving him a second kick, one Lee had plenty of time to see coming but was powerless to evade, his hard toed boot ramming itself into Lee’s cunt so hard it Lee’s bindings nearly ripped from the posts. Nearly, but they did not, and Lee was forced to lie there, his legs still fully parted, while the worst agony he had ever experienced radiated from his privates up his body, leaving him gagging.

“Everyone says omegas got the worst of it,” McConville commented, clearly delighted with the pain he had dealt out. “No balls to speak of, just enough to be used against ‘em and a sensitive little pussy that was just made to be punished.”

The rattlesnake joined McConville in his fun, not daring to bite (because her venom would have brought an end to things too soon) but crawling over Lee’s leg, moving up it. Lee shuddered to feel another man’s daemon’s scales against his flesh. McConville shuddered too, but it was clear he experienced that intimate violation of his daemon touching Lee as pleasure, his arousal starting to visibly tent his pants, the musky scent of alpha joining the scent of blood in Lee’s nostrils. The snake crawled up slowly, until she reached Lee’s most intimate parts, then flicked her tongue out against his flaccid cock, before rubbing her scales along the folds of his pussy, lips cherry red from the abuse they had already taken, and Lee let out a helpless sob, as unaroused as it was possible to be.

The snake crawled up Lee until her head was level with his ear, her long tail still rubbing all the while between his legs, the almost gentle sensation of the daemon’s touch unrelenting, doubling with the sensation of Hester being first beaten and now punched, every blow unerringly striking her sensitive cunt with cruel intensity, to leave both man and hare _sobbing_. That on top of the unrelenting stretch between Hester and Lee, on top of Lee’s gunshot wound and throbbing cunt.

“I’d fuck you, if I could,” the rattlesnake whispered intimately in Lee’s ear. “And I’d fuck your rabbit too. But I’ll get to feel his pleasure when his dick is breaking open your fuckhole and I’ll get to feel his balls flooding your useless bitch hole with his seed. We won’t just be killing you and your rabbit when his dick splits her open from the inside out. We’ll kill the baby he’s going to plant in you. He’s going to fill you so full you’d likely have triplets if you were allowed to live. You’re going to die a stupid, useless mom who can’t protect nothing.”

Then, as if to punctuate her words, Lee felt a sensation worse than the kick had been, worse than having Hester’s pussy beaten nonstop for what must have been a full ten minutes. The dying gunman, whose blows had steadily lost power in those ten minutes finally stopped, perhaps realizing that his strength had almost been used up, that for the last minute he had more or less been patting Hester intimately. Perhaps that had given him an idea. Perhaps McConville had made a suggestion while they were otherwise distracted. All Lee and Hester knew was that, without warning, the dying man had rammed his finger up Hester’s unprotected cunt.

It was Lee who screamed, Hester too shocked to _breathe_ let alone cry out. The pain was only secondary to the sheer violation of having another man’s finger pushing inside Lee’s daemon. It was violation on top of violation, a torture beyond anything Lee even knew was possible.

The dying man made the most of his last moments, pulling his finger out then ramming it in again, hard and fast as he could manage.

“Please,” Lee sobbed, _begged_ , anything to make that stop. McConville laughed, and his rattlesnake finished her climb up Lee, her tail finally leaving his private area so she could wrap around his neck, not tightly but with clear potential, her thick muscles flexing, her rattle in his ear.

“Whip him, Pierre,” she said, “Stripe his thighs red and beat his cunt purple, beat it black, before you break the virgin bitch open with your fat dick.”

“Please,” begged Lee, hardly knowing himself what he was saying, just desperate for the gunman to stop violating Hester, for the pain to end, “Fuck me, kill me, anything, just stop.”

With every plea, McConville’s lust grew, the bulge in his pants so large it was almost incapacitating. Had Lee been free, the man would have been easy to best, all the blood flowing to his nether regions. Lee was not free though, and, with a cruel grin (and certainly making no move to stop the gunman’s violation), he set about to follow his own daemon’s suggestion.

He had a whip, because he was the sort of man that always kept a whip coiled at his side, and a moment later Lee knew it too because he skillfully cracked it directly against Lee’s exposed cunt. Then he whipped him again, this time striping his inner thigh, then again to match on the opposite leg.

Lee sobbed incoherently, in too much pain to even beg anymore, too much pain to scream, and he felt the man’s finger inside Hester, painful and raw and deep, and he felt the rattlesnake’s coils around his throat, and he felt as the whip struck his inner thighs, and then skillfully caught him across the ass, the back of his thighs.

Just as the snake had said, McConville took his time, striping Lee’s thighs until every inch of them was bruised or bleeding, most blows falling in the places the villain knew to be the most sensitive, the inner thighs, the back of his knees, the crease where his ass met his legs. Once or twice it even struck his little dick. It did not hit his cunt again, not after the first blow. McConville wanted to destroy that place in a more intimate way than his whip.

Lee writhed, desperate to close his legs, to get away, to get to Hester, but his own clothes held him fast, and his own weakened state worked against him. Hester, still being violated by the dying man, sobbed with Lee, feeling useless and half dead herself.

Then the dying man was not dying anymore because he was dead, his daemon blowing out like smoke. Hester writhed, feeling the change between being held by another man and being held by a corpse, which normally would feel no more a violation than touching any inanimate thing, but the man’s dying move was to ram his finger as deep into the hare as it would go, to the hilt, and leaving it there.

“Guess he’s done for,” said McConville, pausing to admire his own work striping Lee’s thighs.

“Almost did for the rabbit,” said his rattlesnake, sounding delighted. “Look how deep his finger went. That can’t be good; it must be pressing right up into the little bitch’s womb.”

“Here,” said McConville, “I’ll fuck this bitch and you go hold that one in place. Can’t trust a dead man to keep hold of the bitch.”

The scales glided over Lee’s body again, purposefully winding so her body ran over his pussy, then across the welts and bruises that decorated his thighs. Lee groaned, helpless to stop it, and Hester started to struggle against her own pain to free herself.

She was too slow; the snake got there first and coiled around her, around the dead man’s hand, holding the two together. Experimentally, the snake moved herself, making the hare move while holding the hand still. The hare moved forcibly along the finger until it almost came out before the snake rammed the hare down on it again.

“Fuck him now, Pierre,” she said, “And I’ll fuck the rabbit after all.”

Grinning McConville said, “In a bit. I still need to beat the bitch’s pussy ‘til it turns black. Don’t fuck the rabbit yet, wait ‘til I’m ready.”

The snake obediently held still, for all the reprieve it gave them when McConville immediately followed this up by kneeling between Lee’s legs, lifting the little cock up out of the way (and giving it a cruel pinch while he was at it), before punching Lee with all the strength he could manage directly in the most sensitive nub. He had quite a bit more strength than the dying gunman could manage with Hester. It felt like being punched straight up through his organs, all the way to his heart. Lee could not even sob in response, the pain so intense it overwhelmed every atom in his body and left him unable to so much as breathe.

“Hit him again,” the rattlesnake urged, her voice lustful, and with a cruel smirk, McConville did. And then a third time. And then he just hammered his fist against that sensitive nub, hard and fast. Within seconds, it had been punched over twenty times, and McConville showed no sign of slowing or stopping any time soon.

Lee breathed in the end because his lungs found it necessary, and he wished he hadn’t, because if he couldn’t breathe he would soon die, and death would have been far better than the intense hell his life had become. The pain was like a separate entity, so large it was almost outside of him, and it was all he knew. It was all Hester knew too, but she was not incapacitated in the same way and she writhed and sobbed and begged like Lee could not. The coils of the snake held her fast, trembled against her, feeling McConville’s pleasure as her own, practically masturbating herself in time with his punches.

And McConville did not stop. His fist punched Lee’s cunt non-stop for a full minute, over a hundred times those knuckles smashed into that sensitive little nub, his broad fist crushing his pussy lips, his other hand pinching and twisting his little dick cruelly. And then another minute passed. And another minute.

“Yes,” groaned the snake, “Beat him Pierre, beat him so hard, harder, harder, break his cunt, break him.”

Lee was utterly helpless to do anything but live in the worst pain of his existence, to feel punch after punch to his sensitive privates. If he could have willed himself unconscious, willed himself dead, he would have. But McConville seemed to have a talent for torture, knowing where to hit that hurt, but did not injure so bad as to allow his victim to escape the pain. And another minute passed, and still Lee had to just lie there and take it as the pain swallowed him whole.

“Yes, yes, yes!” called the snake, rubbing her own sensitive place aggressively against Hester’s pussy, as close as the snake could manage when it was still stuffed full from the dead man’s finger. “Don’t stop!”

McConville did not stop. He had promised Lee torture and he delivered. No one counted, but simply from the number of minutes that had passed he must have punched him several hundred times, approaching a thousand. Lee’s poor little pussy first went cherry red, then turned deep purple under the blows, the agony unbearable and leaving him half insane as it went on and on until he felt utterly broken.

Then finally, McConville did stop.

“Hit him!” the snake urged, “Hit him!”

“Damned if I en’t hard enough to hammer a nail,” McConville said. “I gotta get inside that fuckhole. Time to rape the bitch raw. Get ready, bitch; my fat dick’s least twice the size of any alpha you’ve had, and it’s going to beat you open, beat you inside out. You’ll know you’ve been deep dicked when I’m done with you. Then, if I’m feeling nice, I’ll split your rabbit on my dick and rape it to death. Or maybe I’ll stick my tip in, and let you feel it, then just walk her away ‘til you break.”

He opened his pants as he talked, mindful of the cold to not expose himself more than he had to, and Lee, through the haze of agony that still radiated through his groin, looked in spite of himself. McConville was not just boasting. The monstrous thing jutting rigid between his legs was impossibly huge. Just about as thick as a man’s forearm and so long it looked likely to reach Lee’s lungs.

“Nn,” he managed to protest, still too overcome from the earlier beating to do much more. The noise pleased McConville and he grinned, pulling himself over Lee’s body to position his fat dick against Lee’s pussy lips, holding himself back from ramming straight in only because the anticipation, the agony, fear, horror he could read in Lee’s face, made everything better.

“Get ready with the rabbit,” he grunted out to his snake, lust clearly making it hard from him to speak. “We’ll rape them together. I guess they’ll know they’re fucked when both their holes get broken up.”

The snake, in response, pulled Hester off the dead man entirely, arranging her coils tightly around the hare’s body, before positioning her own tail at the abused entrance, the rattle making a soft tchhhh noise as she positioned it.

“You a virgin, bitch?” McConville asked Lee, still anticipating the first thrust, holding himself back as long as possible so as to heighten it. He pushed his finger inside Lee to feel for himself, and Lee groaned, the pain of the dry intrusion inside the very place he had just been beaten too much to bear. And the finger felt so big inside him, he could not imagine what the cock would feel like.

“You are!” McConville said, finding the barrier he was looking for. “Guess no one wanted such a girly bitch as you, not even as a pity fuck. No girl would let that little baby dick in her and no real man would want an ugly bitch like you. Is that it?” He pulled his finger out. “Get ready,” he called to his snake.

As one, the snake and the man drove themselves into hot, abused pussies. The double pain, the violation, was so intense both man and hare passed out. Only for a few seconds, though. There was no escape that way.

McConville groaned in deep pleasure as he forced as much of himself as he could into Lee’s pussy with one hard thrust. It was not much more than the head that got in; Lee was virgin tight and swollen from the beating. The snake managed to get quite a bit of the tip of her rattle in, the finger already stretching Hester’s hole beyond the usual capacity. The rattle was thicker than the finger though, much larger than a hare was ever meant to take. The snake was careful, wanting to violate, to hurt, but not wanting to hurt so bad that the hare passed out or died, spoiling their fun.

McConville pulled back, then thrust again, going deeper this time, breaking something inside him that made Lee bleed. This made it easier for McConville, and the next thrust had half his dick rammed inside. It was so thick it felt like taking a bat. Lee had thought being punch had hurt; _this_ was what real pain was. Violation mixed with agony as his beaten cunt was forced to open to take another man’s massive cock. He felt every inch of it inside him, along with the pain of being forced so open, so roughly, like a knife stabbing him between the legs. McConville pulled out again, until only his fat head was left to hold the hole open. Then he rammed in again, forcing himself deeper still.

“Damn,” he said as he worked himself into a sweat forcing the tight virgin hole to take it. “Tighter than a girl, this one.” With every cruel thrust, the snake mirrored the move inside Hester, pulling out when McConville did, then thrusting back in with him, perfectly timed. Both violations hurt horribly, but on top of each other they left Lee and Hester half insane, unable to do anything but take the violation in the worst possible way.

They screamed, and cried and writhed and _begged_ , and still their tight holes were rammed again and again, until blood ran down the snake’s rattle and McConville, with a long satisfied groan, had rammed himself inside Lee’s broken virgin pussy all the way up to the hilt. Lee was certain the monstrous cock had utterly broken him inside, that it had wedged itself all the way into his womb, maybe beyond. It felt so deep, and forced him so wide, touching places inside him that had never been touched by anyone, a violation so intimate it felt like it tainted his very soul.

“I’m in!” McConville cried, like he had scored a goal in some perverse sport, then, “Let’s fuck these girls ‘til their pussies turn inside out. Gonna ram you so good you’ll die with my cum on your lips. Gonna rape you ‘til you’ll never feel anything but my cock up your fuckhole again.”

Then he grabbed Lee’s hips, pulled almost all the way out, and thrust all the way back in, again and again and again. At first he went slow, wanting Lee to feel every inch of his dick as he drove it home, and besides Lee was still tight enough to make McConville work for it, his fat cock wet with Lee’s blood and nothing else. Soon, though, overcome by his lust, he pulled himself on top of Lee and just hammered his dick into him and hard and fast as he could. Lee groaned, no choice but to take it, take everything the man gave as deep as he wanted to give it. The snake groaned too, in ecstasy, as her sensitive hole rubbed against Hester and her rattle tore into her pussy relentlessly.

The feedback between having both holes raped at the same time was horrific. It went on and on, longer than the beating had, the fat cock burying itself to the hilt, fat balls smacking Lee’s sensitive, beaten thighs, the pain beyond bearing, the violation soul destroying, and still he could not escape, could not help Hester, Hester could not help him, they had to feel their pussies beaten raw, impossibly hard and fast, their pain driving their abusers to new heights of pleasure.

Just when it seemed McConville might come and end their torment, his breathing coming in hard gasps, he purposefully slowed himself. For a while, he pleasured himself with shallow, short thrusts, until the feeling of his impending orgasm receded, and then he sped up again, breaking open Lees cunt all over again.

“Hey,” he said after Lee and Hester had endured nearly an entire half hour of cruel rape, “Beg me to come. Beg me and maybe I will.”

“Please,” Lee managed to stutter out, his voice hoarse and raw from crying out his agony, “Please come.”

“Tell me you’re a worthless bitch who needs a hard rape. Tell me how you wanted to spread your legs to me and let me ram you.”

“I…I’m a worthless bitch,” Lee sobbed out, “And…and I spread my legs for you to rape me.” Then he kept sobbing, and McConville kept thrusting, hard and fast and deep. The pain only seemed to grow more intense over time, not a singly spark of pleasure in his beaten cunt, no sign of answering wetness from being raped, just his own blood and the precum dribbling from McConville’s dick. Hester did not even get precum, just got to hear the snake’s groans of pleasure as she violated Hester as deep and hard as she dared.

Finally, McConville had enough of putting off his own pleasure. He fucked Lee harder and faster than ever, bruising his hips he held him so tight, and then screamed as his orgasm finally was allowed to come, his dick as deep as he could ram it, his full, fat balls emptying directly into Lee’s womb. He came and came, holding his impossibly fat cock all the way in as thick ropes filled Lee and filled him, until his belly started to bulge, not a drop able to escape anywhere but deep inside. He filled him until Lee actually hurt, and as he filled him the alpha’s knot swelled inside him, twice as thick as the cock alone, and Lee lay helpless to stop any of it.

“Yes!” screamed the snake, coming in time to McConville, ramming her rattle in deep and twitching, feeling McConville’s orgasm as her own.

It took the two nearly five full minutes to come down from it, and then McConville gave an experimental tug, feeling just how wide his knot had forced Lee’s lips. He did not force himself out, though, just enjoyed the sensation of a tight cunt forced to hold the full length of his cock. Lee continued to sob helplessly, knowing it was not over yet.

In the parts of his brain not completely preoccupied with pain and humiliation and horror, Lee found himself wondering what had happened to the captain and the bear. At least they had stopped the gunman and he did not doubt the bear had stopped whoever was down below. Likely the boat was loaded already. Likely it was gone, leaving Lee and Hester to their fate. He wondered if Iorek had gone with them. He tried to imagine the bear coming up the stairs, curious as to what had happened, only to find him like _this_ , fucked and knotted and bound. Would the bear attack? Would he free him? Or would he turn away in utter disgust.

Iorek did not come though, no one did. It seemed McConville had all the time in the world to torture Lee and Hester in. McConville did not leave Lee alone while he was knotted to him. If he was not tugging at his pussy with his knot (not enough to break free, just enough for Lee to feel the pain of it), he was using his fingers to torture the man in other ways. He poked at the bullet hole, covered his fingers in Lee’s blood, pinched and twisted his nipples, then played with Lee’s little cock, scratching the head, then pinching it, then grabbing the whole thing and yanking hard, before twisting it.

Lee could not scream only because he had no voice left to do so. McConville delighted in making him try, though, and his snake kept calling advise.

“Scratch his thighs over the stripes! Ram your gun up his bunghole! Twist his little cocklet right off!”

McConville did not do the last, though he certainly twisted and pinched relentlessly. He scratched and pinched Lee’s bloodied thighs as well. The only reason the Winchester did not end in Lee’s ass was because McConville was in an awkward position to manage it.

Then McConville, still locked inside Lee, came a second time. McConville groaned in absolute pleasure as an impossible amount of seed flooded into Lee’s ruined womb, his belly visibly expanding with every spurt, plugged up far too tight for any to escape.

“Fill him, Pierre,” groaned out the snake, “Fill him until he bursts!”

Lee feared that was exactly what would happen; he was so full it _hurt_ , as a new pain all its own on top of the pain of a dick violating his virgin hole, on top of every other pain McConville could think to inflict. And then McConville came again, and Lee near passed out, the new agony beyond his ability to take it.

He did not pass out though, no matter how badly he wished he could. His stomach bulged so large he looked pregnant. He likely was pregnant, with all that seed inside him it seemed impossible not to be, but he looked nearly nine months worth, his stomach stretched impossibly, forced to take it and take it and McConville came a fourth time.

“Damn, never managed four before. Think a fifth one will bust him open?”

They did not find out though, because finally, finally the knot began to go down. The seed was still stuck inside, McConville’s dick so thick it acted like one long knot to plug Lee up, but it was a good sign that McConville was starting to go flaccid, that he was not going to fill Lee again, not anytime soon.

McConville did not pull out, still enjoying knowing how much pain Lee was in, how violated. 

“Need to piss,” McConville said, an undetermined amount of later, mostly spent cruelly pinching Lee’s cock or patting his swollen belly, cruel jabs to make Lee groan. He still did not pull out.

There was a hot sensation deep inside Lee and his belly swelled even further. Lee sobbed as he realized what was happening, that McConville had just pissed directly into his womb, and then sobbed harder because the pain was beyond what he could bear and still he had to bear it.

“I just put a baby inside you,” said McConville, “And now I just pissed on it. Your baby is swimming around in my piss.”

And that seemed to please him so much, that he began to groan again. To Lee’s utter horror, he felt that massive dick thicken inside him.

“No, please, no, not again I can’t take it again,” Lee begged, his voice raw and nearly gone. McConville groaned in pleasure to hear those words, and then he pulled out, enough that a hot flood of seed and piss spurted from Lee’s hole, his pussy stretched from the former knot so much the dick was no longer enough to keep it tight. Then the fully erect dick rammed back in, stopping the flow. After that, McConville kept his thrusts hard but shallow, not letting the bulge in Lee’s belly flatten any further.

“Yes, yes!” his snake cried, revived for this second round, and Hester sobbed with Lee. Everything hurt so bad, and kept on hurting, and the rape seemed to go on for hours, days of a thick dick ramming their raw, abused pussies without mercy. Really it was only another half hour before McConville spurted more seed into Lee, filling up all that had escaped and then more, his knot stretching him anew. It felt even bigger this go around, the abuse making Lee’s insides swell to meet it, adding to the pain.

This time, he only came twice more before the knot started to go down, but those two times were nearly enough to do what the snake kept urging and burst Lee open. He was filled so full he looked pregnant with twins, far beyond what any omega was meant to take. And still McConville left his dick buried deep up Lee’s pussy, not letting one drop escape. McConville cruelly played with him, patting the bulge to hear the liquid swish, then giving a few hard jabs with his fist, then reaching down and playing yet again with the little cock, now so swollen from the abuse that it looked almost twice the size.

Finally, after what must have been at least three full hours of non-stop rape and torture, the man’s stomach growled.

“Time for supper, I’d guess,” said McConville. “Let’s finish them and get ourselves a bit to eat. I did work up an appetite.”

“Yes,” Lee said, his voice raspy and raw from screaming, “Let’s finish this.”

And with muscles that painfully protested the movement, he nonetheless managed to bring one hand around, one hand no longer bound and holding in it a gun that was no longer locked up tight, lubricated with his own blood.

The explosion of the gun going off so close to Lee’s ears a second time was enough to render him near deaf. McConville was worse off though, seeing as the bullet had found its way through his head. His snake did not have time to be surprised before she was simply gone, and Hester fell on top of the dead man.

Hester felt half gone herself, but the pull towards Lee was so intense that she found plenty of strength to bound over. The relief to their bound, pulled taut all that time, was intense and both near passed out simply from that, let alone all else that had happened to them.

It was over. They had won. It might not feel like a win, but they were still alive and the others were not. Lee lay back, his belly still enlarged, a corpse’s dick still rammed up his pussy, just breathing, and Hester huddled against him, shaking violently, and they waited for it to feel like a win.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who skipped the rape and abuse in the last chapter to get to the Lee/Iorek bit, I warn you that the rape and abuse is referred to (including descriptions of wounds), but the majority of this chapter involves Iorek cleaning Lee. With his tongue. Also, Iorek does not exactly ask for permission or get Lee's consent, and there is a bit where Iorek is pressing when Lee is pulling away...but he never gets a 'no' either and Hester is enthusiastically for it, so you could call this dubcon, but it's probably more consensual than not.

No one said anything about the blood after. Lee liked to imagine that no one noticed, that no one guessed, but more than likely they were simply kind enough to pretend. The custom’s authority officer kept to Lee’s slow, limping pace as they moved down the dock, close enough to catch him if he started to collapse but far enough to give him his space. Lee carried Hester, felt her trembling in his arms, and it was about all his strength could manage to hold her with his good arm, support her with his bad one (the side that got shot), and take one step after another while doing his best to make his face into something other than traumatized.

The blood at his shoulder was rather concerning. He was cold too, in part because that part of the world had a cold climate and in part likely from blood loss and in part because his shirt was doing its duty as a bandage between his legs so hopefully it was not seeping through to show on his pants, and all he had left to keep out the cold was his coat.

If the blood did seep through, if any of the men escorting him noticed anything at all of what he had been through, if they smelled it on him…no one said anything.

Iorek did not say anything either, not when he finally emerged onto the dock (the captain and his boat were long gone, but the bear had stayed).

Lee probably should have taken more time to clean himself up after, but he felt like all the time in the world would never have been enough, so he washed the blood from his shoulder, washed what he could from between his legs (between Hester’s legs, too) but that hurt, in ways his gunshot would simply did not, and there was not enough water in the world, and he called that quick rinse enough. Then he stuffed their wounds with the bloodmoss Iorek had gifted to him, in the gunshot wound and stuffed as deep as he could bear up his ruined pussy (he did not look, could not look, but he did what needed doing). He followed this by stuffing some of the clean white rags there, tossed the ruined shirt, and said he was ready (more than read) to leave.

He invited Iorek, because the bear needed it.

He _liked_ Iorek; once he had gotten past the fact that he was a bear, once he saw the person, he felt instinctively that he had met a kindred spirit. They did not talk, not for the first hour, not until Novy Odense was out of sight, long out of sight and no pursuit apparent.

Then Iorek looked at Lee and Hester, dropped all pretense of everything being fine, and said, “That man hurt you.”

“Er…yes. He shot me,” answered Lee, because there was no denying that.

“He forced himself in you and emptied his seed in there,” said Iorek, quite matter of factly, and Lee found himself saying, “Well…yes,” to that too.

“You stink of him,” Iorek said, in that same tone. “And of blood. You smell wounded.”

Lee did not answer that, just clutched Hester more tightly (he had yet to put Hester down except when he absolutely had to, and when he did she just about burrowed into his shins until he could pick her up again).

“I should have looked for you sooner,” Iorek said, and that was not in the same tone, there was a clear snarl there at the end, deep and angry; Lee felt it like a vibration through his bones.

“I handled it,” Lee said, because that was true too, even if it had taken far too long.

“I knew if I went in after you, the men on the dock would have acted. As long as I stood on the dock, they did not dare.”

“You don’t even have a gun, how did you keep them back for…for how ever many hours?” That was Hester asking, the first words she had spoken since asking Lee if he was alright, back in the warehouse. Her voice was rough (Lee’s voice was too) and it made Lee’s eyes tear up to hear her.

“Bears make them uncomfortable,” Iorek answered simply, once again in that matter of fact tone. “They held back and made conferences together and made plans and none wanted to act. Then the custom’s officers came and they wanted everyone to disperse. I said I was waiting for you. They whispered, and decided to wait with me.”

“What…for hours?” asked Hester. Lee stared down at her, wondering how she could be trembling in his arms, then turn and sound almost normal to talk to Iorek.

“They did not seem to like going in to see what had happened. They said inside the warehouse was outside their jurisdiction.”

For some reason, hearing a great white arctic bear saying a word like ‘jurisdiction’ with such solemnity struck Lee as funny and he unexpectedly found himself stifling a giggle. He suspected if he started laughing, it was going to end in sobs, and he really did not want to fall to pieces in front of his new friend (or at all).

Iorek peered hard at Lee, as if he could read his every thought, and then he said, “Take off your clothes, and I will bathe you. Then you will not stink of him.”

Lee did not feel like giggling anymore, though falling to pieces was not off the table yet.

“Er,” he answered intelligently.

“I’m already naked,” said Hester, and then, “And there ain’t no baths up here; how are you going to bathe us?"

Instead of answering with words, the bear moved closer. Lee was suddenly struck with how _big_ Iorek was, even on all fours his head was easily level with Lee’s shoulder; if he reared up he would tower over him. Hester could probably have fit whole inside the bear’s mouth. Really, Lee and Hester should have been terrified, and Lee certainly felt his heartrate quicken, but somehow his body was not reading Iorek’s approach as danger, and he did not shrink away.

Then Iorek brought his nose right up to Lee and Hester, and they could feel his heat, feel the soft, warm huff of his breath. And with infinite gentleness, the great jaws parted and a tongue delicately licked against Hester’s fur, and Lee’s hand where he held her. It was wet and soft and felt rather like being touched by a warm wet towel.

“Oh,” Hester gasped, and then, “Yes, please!” And she arched herself within Lee’s hold as though to give the bear greater access, going so far as to twist herself around and spread her legs.

“Hester?” said Lee, confused, because he knew what all she had just been through, and it did not seem likely she could really want a bear to clean those places where the rattlesnake daemon (where the _human_ ) had just violated her.

“It en’t like _him_ at all,” Hester answered Lee. “Feels…cleansing. I think it’s an animal thing.”

And daemons weren’t animals, not _really_ ; they were a sort of human that looked like an animal, but there were always animal instincts that bled through, or maybe humans were more animal than they liked to think. Anyway, Lee was not about to deny Hester anything she wanted, so he sat down so as to let her lie on his lap so Iorek could more easily access any part of her he needed to.

Sitting was awkward for Lee; he was tired enough to want to sit, to lie down, but his entire sitting area had been so thoroughly abused that he had to angle himself backwards just to avoid serious pain. The bloodmoss had helped quite a lot, but not so he could simply ignore his wounds.

Iorek wasted no time, barely allowing Lee the time to settle himself and Hester, before his great face followed them down and then, with gentle yet firm strokes, he brought his tongue directly to the source of wrongness, licking over the sore abused pussy between the hare’s legs.

“Oh!” Lee gasped in shock, not expecting Iorek to go straight there, thinking he would perhaps start with something less intimate, that if he was going to touch Hester’s privates at all he would work his way up to it. Hester clearly wanted it though; she had flipped herself over in Lee’s lap just to give the bear access, her legs spread and open.

It was not altogether comfortable for Lee or Hester; that area was _sore_ , but the touch was so soft and gentle it was not exactly painful either. Iorek lapped, the broad tongue bathing the hare from her pussy all the way up her belly and over her nipples, bringing to Lee’s mind a mother cat cleaning her kittens, except thankfully with a softer tongue, and leaving behind a slick wetness. The bear licked twice more, then turned his attention more fully on the little pussy, giving it shorter, more forceful little licks that made Lee’s own pussy tingle in response.

“Yes, right there, yes!” Hester cried, and with a reddening face Lee suddenly realized that his daemon was practically masturbating herself against Iorek’s tongue. The bear did not seem to mind this, just slathered the little pussy with greater intensity, letting Hester and Lee start to feel his strength, and then the tongue was pressing hard, into bruises, the tip pressing against Hester’s abused opening.

“No!” Lee cried out, pushing at Iorek’s head.

“Yes!” cried Hester, spreading her legs wider, as if she did not notice the pain at all, just felt that hot tingle inside her growing into something good. Iorek did not move in the slightest in response to Lee’s pushing or his cry, just lapped his tongue strongly at the opening again and again, hard and fast, while Hester squirmed and begged for more.

Lee could feel Hester’s pleasure, but also the sensation of a tongue against his own pussy, sharing Hester’s sensations, and the tongue was so huge against the hare’s tiny little cunt, and he found himself remembering before, being forced to take something too big, and he pushed against Iorek harder. The bear was like a boulder though, and did not move in the slightest.

“Yes, yes!” Hester groaned, and the bear’s tongue was relentless, and suddenly an orgasm ripped through Lee and Hester together, a spark of intense pleasure followed by a gush of stickiness between both their legs.

Iorek licked Hester clean in a moment, and the hare groaned in pleasure, and then whined when the large face pulled back.

“Yes,” said Iorek. “You taste clean again. Turn over, and I will bathe the rest of you, and then I will bathe Lee Scoresby until the stink is gone from him too.”

“Don’t know I need a bath,” Lee said, feeling his face go even redder, especially at the way his daemon wantonly stretched in his lap and turned herself this way and that, offering herself wholly to the bear.

“Just let Iorek take care of us, Lee,” Hester said, voice half moaning from the soft hot tongue running over her back and then that mouth just about suckling over her ears. Lee felt embarrassed just looking at her, and if she thought he was going to do the same she was sadly mistaken.

“There,” said Iorek after Hester was wetted down all over, and for good measure he gave her sore little pussy another gentle lick. Then he had to get something to drink to help wash away all the fur left on his tongue.

While he was doing this, Hester put her paws on Lee’s chest, crawling up him to look him earnestly in the eyes.

“Please,” she whispered, for his ears, not the bear’s even if it was likely Iorek could still hear her he seemed intent on his drink. “You need this. It will get _him_ off of you. Out of you. And…and I think Iorek needs it too. He feels guilty that he couldn’t stop it happening.”

And Lee still did not agree, but perhaps something inside him did, just as he still felt a tingle of pleasure between his legs along with all the soreness and discomfort.

And he did want that man to be washed away, he just didn’t know that Iorek could do that. He rather thought he would still feel McConville in him for years to come, for forever maybe. It had been his first time taking a man, and possibly his last.

“Remove your clothes,” Iorek ordered, his voice a low deep rumble and he stood over Lee and Hester, impossibly huge when Lee was half sitting, half lying back on some blankets. Somehow, Lee found himself falling back, further against the blankets, the bear over him, great paws on either side of his stomach, head lowered to look him in the eyes.

‘Never challenge a bear’ was an instinct instilled deep in the Texan. To be sure, that adage was meant to apply to wild bears, not bears who were people. But then, Iorek was kind of a wild bear still, for all he was a person; certainly he could not be called _tame_. Lee’s eyes slid away, and he found himself tilting his head in submission, like a dog offering up its belly, and his face burned in humiliation but he still did not turn back to stare Iorek down.

Perhaps Iorek took the submission as a form of permission, because he gently lapped his tongue over Lee’s neck, up the side of his jaw, over an ear. Then he put his tongue to Lee’s lips, and they tingled as if he had been kissed, feeling soft warm, wet heat. His lips parted without him meaning to, and the next he knew the tongue was in his mouth, fat and hot and powerful. He could taste Hester on Iorek’s tongue, despite the bear cleaning his tongue after, and the tongue ran across Lee’s teeth, never diving too deep but tasting, and he felt the warm wet heat still pressing between his lips and tasted back.

Perhaps Iorek liked the taste, or perhaps he understood that Lee needed time, needed this to go slow, because Iorek spent a long time at it, pulling his tongue out to lick over Lee’s lips again, leaving them tingling, licking over an eye or behind his ear, making Lee gasp, then delving that tongue back into Lee’s mouth. It seemed to go on for ages, almost teasing, the way Iorek would force out a gasp when he touched on someplace sensitive, then he would tickle gently at that same spot, leave it for a bit, then return, again and again, until Lee shocked himself by letting out a groan when that tongue yet again curled just so in that spot behind his ear.

Hester did not say ‘I told you so’, not because she was above such things, but because she knew just how badly Lee needed this, and saying _anything_ might take him out of it. Iorek said nothing either, but growled, and attacked that spot like it was his prey, tongue lathing and swirling mercilessly.

Lee groaned again, twisting his head first to give access, then to escape when it approached too much. Iorek did not let him escape though, following relentlessly with his tongue. Then he went lower, across Lee’s exposed throat, down to his collarbone.

Hester, sneaky little daemon that she was, had busily undone the buttons to Lee’s coat and it fell open as Lee’s head fell back. Underneath was bare skin and bandages and Iorek growled again at the scent of blood and then ran his tongue down Lee’s exposed chest and over a nipple.

“Oh!” Lee gasped at the hot wet tongue running over his nub and Iorek did it again, and then again, before bringing his great, razor teeth and lightly, delicately nipping. Lee felt it like a jolt through his whole body and gasped again. His head was still fallen backwards, as if his body were displaying itself, opening before the bear, his eyes staring up at the bottom of the balloon and the open sky.

Iorek opened the bandage next, and then Lee did push at him again, both because he did not want Iorek to see the ugly wound, and because he suspected _pain_ lay in any attentions Iorek might give it.

“Don’t fight it,” Hester whispered, her voice impossibly gentle. She had groaned and gasped with him as Iorek had worked over Lee’s neck and lips, and Lee felt unimaginably grateful that she was there, with him, always, sharing.

It did not matter if Lee fought it anyway; Iorek was stronger and already looming over him and Lee was at his mercy.

The tongue ran over his gunshot wound, gently but firmly, lapping up blood dried and fresh. It did hurt, but not as sharply as Lee had feared, and in an odd way it felt good too, the heat and wetness easing something in the wound.

“I will turn you over now,” Iorek announced, which was all the warning Lee got before he was being lifted, paws sliding beneath his coat and taking hold of his back to pull him upward and right out of the coat. It should have left him cold and shivering, without a coat in that climate, high in the air, but Iorek was like a furnace and he was pressed into his soft fur, and he did not so much as shiver. Then he was laid back, turned to lie on his stomach, so that Iorek could ply his attentions to the other half of his shoulder wound where the bullet had entered.

Lee buried his face into his own coat and then he did shiver, not from cold, but from the feeling of Iorek’s tongue running from the small of his back all the way up to his neck.

“You’re doing fine, Lee,” Hester whispered. “It’s okay if you do fall apart. I think we can trust him to catch you.”

Lee shuddered again and said nothing as the tongue lapped up sweat and blood. He could feel Iorek’s warm breath against his neck, the heat body over him (not lying on him, the bear was too heavy for that, but his body was close enough over him for Lee to feel his fur tickling over his back.

Then Iorek’s tongue found its way across the side of Lee’s ribs, and darted under his arm.

“Oh,” Lee said into his coat, squirming sharply, and then whimpering because moving like that hurt his shoulder wound. The tonging to his armpit had actually felt good in a ticklish way, but Iorek did not do it again, and Lee was not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. He actually felt a bit lopsided over it, because his other armpit was also left alone.

Then he was too distracted to think about it, because the tongue ran down, tickling his side, before pressing almost under him, just under the place where his pants covered him.

“Oh,” he said again, only for Iorek’s heat to pull away entirely. Lee wondered if the bear was going to demand Lee remove his pants, and Lee wondered how he would answer if the bear did make that demand. Because he did not want to…but he did want to…there was something good building in his belly, little tingles of sticky pleasure in that place where before there had only been pain, and maybe he wanted those tingles to grow until the pain was a lost memory. But maybe it would be the pain that grew, and the memory, if Iorek touched him there. So maybe he did not want it.

Iorek did not ask him to remove his pants. He moved himself, great weight gently rocking the basket as he repositioned himself. Lee, head still burrowing into his own coat, could not exactly see what Iorek was doing, just knew he felt his heat returning over him. Then he felt Iorek pulling at Lee’s shoes.

“What?” Lee said, starting to pull himself up, except then Iorek had a shoe off, and a sock, and his tongue lathered featherlight against the bottom of Lee’s bare foot.

Lee jolted again, nearly kicking Iorek in the face, but the bear seemed to expect it and one great paw rested over his ankle, not pressing down but not letting the foot press up either, and the tongue slid over Lee’s toes, and then experimentally lapped across his sole until it got to a spot that made Lee spasm and sent a shocking jolt of pleasure straight to Lee’s core.

That was clearly exactly what the bear was searching for, because he immediately attacked that same spot savagely, giving it featherlight kisses, then lapping hard and fast, then nipping it delicately.

Lee’s whole body went tense and he kicked out, the sudden ticklish pleasure too intense, but Iorek was relentless, not letting up no matter how Lee squirmed or tried to kick, and all the while something built and built in Lee’s core, Iorek’s tongue at once too much and yet, not _enough_.

“Please, Iorek, please,” he found himself saying, hands clutching at his coat, feeling the heat above him, and Iorek responded by attacking Lee’s other foot, lathering it and gently nipping the toes before finding another spot to make Lee squirm.

“Oh, please, please,” Lee half sobbed, and then Iorek pressed Lee’s feet together, and, with his great broad tongue, somehow managed to find that spot on both feet at once.

Lee screamed into his coat as he came, the most intense orgasm of his life, and he felt a flood of wetness between his legs, and he could almost feel that bit of McConville that had been left too far inside him for him to get it out, flooding down with it. And he started sobbing, like a child.

Iorek’s heat settled over him, and Lee felt his warm fur against the bare skin of his back, and then sliding around him. He was turning him over to lie on his back again.

Lee shook his head, holding tight to his coat to hide his face, not wanting Iorek to see him falling apart. Iorek said nothing, just turned him anyway, letting him take the coat with him to hide his face in, and lay him gently back on the soft blankets.

Then his great paws, with impossible delicacy, began to undo the clasp to Lee’s belt.

Lee said nothing, made no move to stop him when Iorek, with infinite gentleness, slid Lee’s pants down and off him, leaving him utterly bare under him except for his underpants. And he felt the soft graze of claws, razor sharp but used with such care they never broke his skin, never tore a stitch of his clothing, slide beneath the edge of his pants. He felt them roll down, exposing more and more flesh, until the soft hair above his genitals was visible, then down his hips, dipping further, and Lee felt warm air over his little cock and knew he was being utterly and completely exposed.

Iorek pulled until the pants were at Lee’s ankles, and then off him completely, and then his great, hot body climbed over Lee once more. He did not immediately go to his genitals but all way back up to where Lee hid his face in his coat, still softly sobbing.

Iorek pulled the coat away too, not allowing Lee to hide any part of himself, and licked at Lee’s tears.

“It will be okay, Lee,” Hester whispered again, her little paw at Lee’s shoulder (the good one), and Iorek licked one of her ears, and she let him, and Lee shuddered at the feeling. Then, for the first time in an age, Iorek spoke again.

“I am going to lick you until every trace of that alpha is gone,” he said, his body so close over Lee that Lee could feel the vibration of his words through his entire body.

Lee did not say ‘yes’. He did not say ‘no’ either. He stared at Iorek and Iorek looked him deep in the eyes and Lee turned his away and offered his neck and he did not know what he felt in that moment except maybe exhausted.

He wanted to be clean.

“Do it, please,” Hester said for Lee. Perhaps Iorek had been waiting for permission, because it was only then that Iorek moved, backing away until he could bring his snout down to burrow into Lee’s crotch. He stuck his nose right up against Lee’s pussy, nuzzling gently beneath his abused cock, warm breath ghosting over very intimate, sensitive places.

McConville had done his best to _hurt_ Lee, had lusted for that hurt, and there was not an inch of skin in that area that was not swollen and purple or bloody. Lee had stuffed bloodmoss inside him, and that had helped with the pain a little bit, but it still hurt, and it seemed likely there was not much Iorek could do that would not make it hurt more.

It felt necessary, though, like peeling off a scab. And so far, all the feelings were so soft, so gentle and delicate, hot breath rather than touch, and maybe that last orgasm had left him sensitive and primed, because to Lee’s surprise he felt an answering tingle of pure pleasure at the hot feeling of Iorek’s nose scenting his privates.

At the same time, Lee felt his face heating up, knowing Iorek could smell the horrible alpha on him (he had filled him so much, so much, with cum, with piss, and Lee swore he could still feel the man’s seed in him, like a layer of scum trapped inside him, and now Iorek knew it too).

When Iorek did lick, it was first to Lee’s inner thigh. His thighs were as bloody, if not more bloody than his cunt, and that gentle touch left a sharp sting of pain that was not pleasant, but also an intimate feeling of warmth which was pleasant. The dual sensation made Lee gasp and left him confused, his legs trying to close and open at the same time.

Iorek settled between his legs firmly, not letting them close, and Lee felt a sob growing inside him because it was too much like before, but at the same time the heat of Iorek’s breath, the soft fur against his bare skin was utterly different and _good_.

“He’ll take care of you,” Hester kept whispering in Lee’s ears, or things like it, reminding him that Hester was there, not pulled away, reminding him that what was happening was good, not bad, and the sob still wanted out but Lee’s legs stopped trying to close.

Iorek lapped away the dried blood, so gentle no new blood followed. He went down to the back of Lee’s knees, then licked his way back up, and as that warmth drew closer and closer to the place between his legs, Lee started to feel a growing warmth as if to answer the approaching heat.

“Oh,” he gasped again when he felt a strange sensation of his own juices spurting from his cunt, not an orgasm quite, more his body anticipating what was to come, and he felt his own juices gushing over his sensitive nub, and pleasure rippled through him in spite of the continued sharp little feelings of pain up and down his thighs.

The tongue lathed higher and higher until it was nudging at the crease where his leg met his ass, lifting his ass up until he felt the tongue at the small of his back.

He groaned, this time feeling a building frustration, as the tongue failed to make good on its promise and touch against the place it had been building for.

Instead it delved into his crack, running wetly until it met his rear hole and then probing.

“Ior…” Lee gasped out, hands grasping at the blanket beneath him, not expecting it and shocked. The tongue probed hotly there for a while, not quite delving in. Just when Lee was getting used to it, that was when Iorek pulled away entirely. Only for a second, perhaps only half a second. In the next, his tongue swiped firmly over the entire length of Lee’s pussy.

Lee screamed, orgasming instantly, shocked at the suddenness, the intensity.

“Yes!” Hester screamed with him, rubbing herself against Lee as she came with him.

It was just as well it hit him like that, because it was only after that the pain hit as well, because McConville had beaten that spot so hard that even a gentle touch hurt. The whole area was swollen and purple and hot to touch.

Iorek did not stop with one lick. Lee’s pussy was still quivering from his intense orgasm when Iorek licked it again, and then it was Iorek who groaned, a growling sort of groan that vibrated right to Lee’s core, and he licked harder, pressing his tongue firmly against Lee’s pussy wetly, chasing the source of the slick that was pouring over his tongue like he had just tasted honey and wanted more.

Lee started to feel the pain of it then and started to try and scoot away, knees closing as much as they could when a giant bear was between them. Iorek did not let him pull away. He followed, then pressed so hard into Lee’s folds that it was Iorek forcing Lee back, tongue lapping hard and fast.

That hurt, but at the same time he felt an answering heat in his core, and Lee started sobbing, not knowing if he wanted to spread his legs wider or close them forever. Iorek decided for him, making more pleased groaning noises as his tongue covered every inch of Lee’s most intimate areas, not neglecting the little cock, so swollen and sensitive, but especially interested in diving between his folds and then probing at where the slick kept gushing in little spurts, the remains of his last orgasm and the beginning of his next. Every groan vibrated straight to the innermost part of Lee, filling him with a new heat, and the deep bruising pain was chased by sparks of pleasure until he could hardly tell them apart.

He was still sobbing, but also gasping, groaning, making noises he did not know he could make, and Iorek kept at it and kept at it, until he felt Lee quiver violently beneath his tongue and delicious slick ran out where he could taste it and swallow it down.

Then the tongue probed harder, and great paws held Lee in place, as immovable as granite, and then the tongue delved, pushing inside him, hot and big, and his swollen passage, wet with slick, opened for him.

Lee cried out, shocked both by the intrusion and the intense pleasure that rocked through him yet again. And Iorek groaned, tasting the new rush, and that groan vibrated through Lee, and he came again, right on top of the last, and pleasure crashed on top of pleasure, so hard and intense Lee could feel nothing else, knew nothing else.

Iorek continued to groan, and he thrust his tongue into Lee as deep as he could make it go, trying to chase the orgasm to it source, and Lee felt the full length inside him, impossibly deep, perhaps deeper even than McConville had managed, and for a moment there was again that sensation of intense pain mixed with intense pleasure.

And then Iorek found a place inside Lee that made Lee’s whole body spasm, and Iorek started lapping at it, pulling his tongue out then thrusting it in, hard and fast, impossibly fast.

Lee screamed himself hoarse, hands convulsively grabbing at the blanket, his entire mind whited out as he came, and did not stop coming. It was as if Iorek had fund an orgasm switch inside of him, and had switched it to on, and left it.

He came harder, pleasure rocking his core, crashing over him like a series of ever growing waves.

It was too intense, too much, the pleasure too strong, and he squirmed to escape, if only for a moment, but Iorek was relentless, stabbing that spot inside him, thick wet heat filling him, groaning vibrations that touched him deep inside, and no matter how Lee cried, or squirmed, his body continued to convulse.

Hester was no help at all, shouting ‘yes!’ and spurting her own orgasms against Lee, letting him feel her pleasure on top of his own, until there was nothing else in the entirety of the world.

He came non-stop for a full five minutes before he passed out.

When he woke up again, it was hours later. He was still naked but for bandages; Iorek had taken care to reapply the bloodmoss and wrap his every wound, much more care than Lee had taken when he had done it for himself. Lee was not cold despite being mostly naked, because he had a large arctic bear curled protectively around him.

He was sore, but he did not hurt. The pain was gone. Not just the sharp pain of his wounds (which, in fact, would still be painful for some time until they healed, but the bloodmoss dulled the worst of it). He felt…cleansed. Like maybe he wasn’t tainted forever inside. He felt utterly drained, but also like all the badness had been washed away, like he had flushed it all out with tears and orgasms and Iorek had licked it away.

“I’m glad,” Hester murmured sleepily, “we found such a good friend in such an awful place.”

Lee found he was glad too.

Also, he found himself wondering how often bears bathed. And if Iorek could do with a bath himself.


End file.
